Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 79061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
His tears kissed her skin.
She closed her eyes and promised him, “I’ll finish it. Because y-you’re my fallen angel a-and I’m your Lane.” She tightened her arms around him. “I’m t-the g-girl...for Angelo Valencia, from the very start.”
Epilogue
It was a wedding that no one would ever forget.
The church was almost stark in its simplicity, unheard of for a billionaire’s wedding. And oh, there was also the rather startling dress code, which actually forbade the guests to wear any kind of jewelry.
So many odd things about this wedding, really, but the guests who were lucky enough to be invited simply took it in stride.
In the end, what mattered was that they were invited while the rest of the world wasn’t. It was something worth bragging about for years.
With the bride yet to make her appearance, everyone’s attention was on the groom. He was tall, dark, and handsome, an Italian billionaire whose impending matrimony was making countless women around the world sob in envy and heartbreak. They had hoped, secretly or openly, that they would be the one to bring him to the altar, and yet in the end the one who had prevailed was a curvy brunette whose name didn’t even ring a bell.
When the doors of the church finally opened, everyone oohed and aahed at the sight of the blushing bride. She was radiantly beautiful in a simple white gown. No long trail, no lace veil to cover her face, just a woman whose eyes shone with love for the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle.
The guests dabbed at their eyes, all of them swept away by the romance of it.
Angelo solemnly took Lane’s trembling hand and drew her to his side. He then offered his other hand to Norman, murmuring simply, “Thank you.”
“Just take care of her,” the older man said gruffly.
And then it was Nellie’s turn, and she was already crying even before he could say anything.
Beside him, Lane started crying, too.
“Love her forever,” Nellie managed to say. “Please.”
“You would have to kill me first before I stop.” He was smiling as he said the words, but his gaze was straightforward as it met the older woman’s.
And then finally, they were alone, and as he drew her to their seats in front of the priest, he asked, “Happy?”
She smiled up at him. “Impossibly s-so.”
And it was true, he knew, just as he knew that it wasn’t enough. There was the faintest shadow in her gaze, telling him that he had hurt her too much, and the wound he had left hadn’t completely healed.
And that was fine.
Because Angelo knew what to do now, because now he understood that the cliché was true—-
Sometimes, you had to lose something to know how to keep it forever.
And for his Lane, to love her was to be what he thought wasn’t ever possible, what he believed could never be safe or rational.
To love her and be loved by her was...to be himself.
A sadist.
And when it was time for them to exchange their vows, Angelo gave her the words that he needed to say and she needed to hear.
“From here on, I promise to make you cry—-”
Lane choked.
The crowd gasped.
Nellie cried out.
But Angelo only had his eyes for his bride. “I promise not to call you when I need to work overtime—-”
“Oh my God, I think I’m going to faint,” Nellie moaned.
“I promise to always do what is right even when it means making you feel abandoned—-”
He saw the way her eyes widened and started to shine with tears.
“I promise to do what I can to hurt you—-”
The crowd was in an uproar, but he didn’t give a damn about it. Lane’s tears had started to fall, but she was also smiling, and that was all he needed to see.
“But all this, I promise you, is never to be cruel.” He took a deep breath and slowly reached for her hand. “All this I will do because you are what you are...” He brought her hand to his lips. “And I am what I am, and I’m damn proud of how we love each other.”
And because he could no longer bear it, he pulled her to him.
His arms closed around her, his Lane, his love, his life.
“Only a few people will understand us,” he said rawly, “And that’s fine. I don’t need them to understand us. The only thing I need is for you to understand – to remember that I’m here for you. Whenever and wherever you need me, I’m here. Ask me for my fortune, my pride, my life – it’s yours. But you will never need to ask for my love because that, my Lane, will always be yours.”
He cupped her face.
“Always.”
And the priest, seeing that what was about to happen was inevitable, said hastily, “You may kiss the bride.”